Chapter 629: Countless Threads

On the Vanished, Duncan was engrossed in inspecting a large wooden crate that had been shipped from Pland. He sifted through its contents while the ship smoothly sailed through the upper layers of the spirit realm. As he tried to figure out the items in the crate, Duncan discussed his thoughts with his companion, Vanna.

"You know, calling what I earn from guarding the cemetery in Frost each week as 'subspace invasion' seems a bit exaggerated," he said thoughtfully.

Vanna responded with a seriousness that made Duncan question if she was joking, "It's my meticulous attention to detail that leads me to use such a term." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "But seriously, Captain, I've always wondered why you physically go there to collect your so-called 'salaries.' Agatha has suggested many times we assign a dedicated team to ensure you're undisturbed. Mr. Tyrian has even been seeking a more suitable role for you in the city. Yet, you choose to keep this solitary job guarding those old tombstones."

Duncan stopped inspecting the crate, his mind wandering to the peaceful, snow-covered streets of the northern city-state of Frost. He thought about the quiet cemetery, the silent lanes, a young girl named Annie, and an elderly man who had cared for the graveyard.

With a distant look in his eyes, Duncan replied, "That place holds a special place in my heart. Doing simple, everyday tasks in such a calm and tranquil setting... it feels more like a passion than just a job."

Vanna pondered his words and chose not to respond. Their introspective conversation was interrupted by Alice's lively steps approaching them from the other end of the deck. Her presence always seemed bubbly.

With excitement in her voice, she exclaimed, "Captain! Are we near Wind Harbor? The ship feels like it's rising."

Noticing the crate, her curiosity peaked. "Oh, what's this?" she asked, peering inside. "Is this a bed for me? No, wait... What are these items?"

Picking up an intricately carved wooden piece, Duncan explained, "These are crucial documents and the original blueprints of our ship. But this piece," he said, holding it up for her to see, "is the highlight among them."

Intrigued, Alice leaned in and asked, "What is it?"

Duncan paused, then whispered to the curious Alice with a hint of mystery, "It might just be an 'interface'."

As he spoke, he looked towards the horizon. The previously dark and stormy skies began to clear, and the eerie black tendrils that had snaked through the waters were retreating rapidly. Shadows cast on the water turned into a light mist, soon dispersed by the growing sunlight. Under the skilled navigation of Goathead, the Vanished gracefully moved from the ethereal spirit realm back to the tangible world.

As the Vanished neared its destination, Wind Harbor, a voice filled with anticipation called out, "Can anyone update on the current situation in town?"

From the other end of the ship, Morris quickly responded. "It's still turbulent, but there's a silver lining. Several guardian teams have entered the area and are now operational. Dedicated squads are mobilizing to help and guide the locals. The immediate threat seems stable, but it's hard to predict what might happen tonight."

Duncan nodded, his gaze drifting over the vast expanse of water.

The Vanished had successfully emerged from its ascent, now bathed in brilliant sunlight.

As far as the eye could see, there was only the endless horizon.

Despite the beautiful scene, a sense of unease washed over Duncan, causing him to squint, sensing that something was amiss.

Alice also sensed a strangeness, unsettling even for her, despite being engineered as a level-headed doll.

From the shadows of the ship, a blurry figure emerged, steadily becoming clear as she stared out at the vast ocean. The silence was eventually broken by Agatha's voice, filled with astonishment, "Where on earth is Wind Harbor?"

It was a perplexing question indeed. How could such a large and significant island simply vanish from sight?

Duncan carefully examined the entire horizon and then all other directions. During his thorough survey, he spotted something familiar in the distance.

Floating calmly was an enormous, radiant geometric structure.

This "fallen object" was a known beacon near Wind Harbor. Yet, beyond this luminous monolith, there was only open sea.

Instantly, Duncan mentally reached out, "Goathead, verify our coordinates."

Goathead quickly replied, tinged with disbelief, "Captain, our position is accurate according to the nautical charts. We're exactly where Wind Harbor should be. The glowing structure is a clear landmark... but the Harbor itself is nowhere to be seen."

The tension built as a gentle sea breeze swept across the deck. The intense sunlight from the south illuminated the water, nearly blinding in its brilliance.

In the distance, a mark that might have been made by ghost fire shimmered faintly. Then Duncan heard Nina's voice in his mind, "Uncle Duncan, have you reached the harbor?"

After pausing and taking a deep breath, Duncan replied, "I'm here, Nina. But Wind Harbor... it's gone."

Nina's confusion was evident as she echoed, "What?"

Hours later, as the Vanished approached the area of the glowing geometric structure, they began to find traces of Wind Harbor.

Duncan noticed a research station that had been set up to study the "stone sphere" at the center of the geometric structure. Strangely, the facility was intact in the real world, yet utterly deserted.

Inside the abandoned research station, the clues were telling. It appeared that the researchers had vanished mysteriously just before dawn. The cold, untouched stove in the kitchen, usually busy with morning meal preparations, told part of the story. They also found sacred oil lamps, designed to burn throughout the night, still lit and nearly empty — a sign that no one was there to extinguish them at dawn.

After completing their investigation, the crew of the Vanished moved away from the radiant zone around the glowing geometric structure. They headed to the sea where Wind Harbor once stood, with the ship floating gently over the water.

Seated in his captain's quarters aboard the Vanished, Duncan speculated, "It seems the research facilities near the stone sphere survived due to the protective 'sunlight' emitted by the geometric body, which might have neutralized the potency of the Nameless One's Dream. However, it's both puzzling and alarming that everyone from the station has vanished. Clearly, the 'sunlight' was not strong enough to completely shield against the overwhelming force of Atlantis."

Agatha, reflected in a nearby oval mirror, seemed deep in thought. "This scenario mirrors the incident when the Nameless One's Dream first appeared, causing the entire population of Wind Harbor to disappear without a trace. But now, the dream's power seems to have intensified exponentially. An entire city-state, tangible and vibrant, has been erased from existence," she noted.

Alice, usually composed and stoic, showed rare signs of distress and concern. Clutching Duncan's arm tightly, she hesitated before expressing her fears, "What about our friends and acquaintances in the city? Are they safe?"

Sensing her anxiety, Duncan tried reassuring her, "They are safe, at least for now. My channels of communication with them remain open. If past incidents involving the Nameless One's Dream are any guide, everything that has been lost should return to its original state once the dream ends."

While Alice seemed somewhat reassured by his words, Duncan was keenly aware that he might not be telling the whole truth.

The crucial question that weighed on everyone's mind was whether the Nameless One's Dream would naturally fade away as it had before. Additionally, there was a looming fear that this could be Atlantis's "final dream," which posed a significant threat.

According to the updates relayed by Ted Lir within the Nameless One's Dream, alarming news was reported.

Atlantis, previously an "ancient entity" that lay dormant, had evolved into a powerful force with a clear goal: to reestablish and thrive in the physical realm. With her newfound strength and unchecked ambitions, it seemed unlikely that Atlantis would allow the Nameless One's Dream to simply dissolve. Was the mysterious disappearance of Wind Harbor just the beginning of her encroachment into our reality?

Time was of the essence, and quick decisions were necessary.

In a reflective moment, Duncan examined the "keel sample" from the renowned city-state of Pland laid out on his navigation table. He scrutinized the ancient wooden artifact, pondering its potential uses. How could this specific "wood" help him connect with Atlantis? His goal was to delve into the deepest layers of the Nameless One's Dream and uncover the secrets at its core.

Meanwhile, the sister ships, Sea Mist and Bright Star, had encountered unexplained disturbances linked to a mystical "curse." Additionally, the main keel of the Vanished had disappeared into subspace, and remnants of the "tree branches" from the past had been destroyed in a catastrophic shipyard fire. The wooden fragment before him might be the last remaining piece of "Atlantis's Wood." Duncan knew he had to get his plan right on the first try, as he might not have another opportunity.

As he began to formulate a strategy, an abrupt exclamation from Alice broke his concentration. "Threads!" she cried out.

Surprised, Duncan asked, "Threads? Here? In this room?"

In awe, Alice explained, "Threads... they're everywhere! They appeared suddenly, filling the air... and they're coming from below the deck!"

"From below the deck?" Duncan pondered the new information. Then, with a sudden realization of the gravity of the situation, he quickly took Alice's hand and urged her, "This way, quickly!"

Caught off guard by his swift action, Alice struggled to keep pace, exclaiming, "Hold on! Where are we going so fast? Wait! I feel... disoriented..."

But her words faded as they stepped onto the ship's deck.

Standing in awe, Alice could only gaze at the majestic ocean before them.

As the sun set, casting amber and gold hues across the sea, countless threads, delicate as spider silk, began to rise, not from beneath their ship but from the very location where Wind Harbor once thrived.